


Soldier Gives "The Talk"

by Liashi



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Bad Puns, Euphemisms, F/M, Gen, Headcannon: Soldier is LBGT/GSD affirming even if his explanation of sex is off, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Implied Sexual Content, Literal Birds and Bees, Offhand BSDM mentions, Period Typical Attitudes, Scout and Engineer can't handle the truth, Sex Talk, Swearing (no slurs)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 03:48:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2373395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liashi/pseuds/Liashi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an anon asked imaginesoldier "Imagine Solly explaining what sex is too zhe Scout" and the reply was, "Imagine him explaining it completely wrong", I actually did imagine.</p><p>This is the highly disconcerting and slightly mortifying result.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soldier Gives "The Talk"

**Author's Note:**

> Here be dragons. Original Q/A inspiration http://imaginesoldier.tumblr.com/post/98577351895/imagine-solly-explaining-what-sex-is-too-zhe-scout

Scout was minding his own business drinking a can of soda and eating a slice of bread to which butter and brown sugar had been heavily applied when Soldier clomped into the mess and headed for the coffee pot. At this Scout relaxed marginally, giving a brief raise of a hand and an equally languid "yo" of greeting.

Soldier, having been trained fairly early on out of demanding that all teammates great him with a formal salute, merely returned Scout's greeting with a curt nod and a grunt.

Since no alarming displays of insanity were made on Soldier's part yet that day, Scout returned to his mental planning of exactly what he might say to Miss Pauling (long adoring sigh) when he called to ask about what jobs she'd be up to this weekend and whether he might tag along. He really hoped there wasn't anything too gruesome in the works; even that transplant organ transport gig had been right on the edge of his comfort zone. It was definitely a good thing the body parts had all been kept inside iceboxes the entire way.

Maybe she'd be having a paperwork day. Then they'd be in a nice, cozy little office together, all alone, where Scout could gradually inch his chair closer to hers and—

He looked up as a shadow fell over him and a sense of vague unease crept into his stomach. Soldier stood frowning down at him with a full mug of hot coffee, and from the way his eyes were scrunched he was quite deep in thought.

That and … from the way those eyes were locked onto Scout's face, the subject of those thoughts at this moment was _Scout_. Not good.

Scout had half opened his mouth to form some kind of deflecting question when Soldier's frown became a grimace and he motioned with his coffee, demanding: "What is your age, private?"

The intended deflecting question turned into a spluttered, not very deflecting, "Huh?"

Soldier leaned forward, now fully invading Scout's personal bubble (the bubble was a bit larger for Soldier than it was for most other people.) "I said," Soldier's tone began to rise toward a bellow, "How old are you? As in _your age_. As in, how long since your mama _shoved you out into the cold hard world_ and _told you to start digesting your own damn meals for a change!_ "

"Uh—" Scout was flabbergasted, but he hadn't known Soldier this long without also gaining some skill in thinking fast. "Oh! Er, age, right, uh, twenty-four. I, ah, thought you knew that already."

The last bit he threw in with a big smile and a hope that it would distract Soldier from whatever train of thought he was on, but Soldier only nodded and muttered. His free hand locked in a vice grip around Scout's upper arm before Scout could think to twitch away and make a very fast exit. "Just as I though," Soldier said, growing solemn. "You're probably too young to have heard this yet, so it's time we had _the talk_ to prepare you."

"The—wait, _prepare what?_ "

With that, Soldier dragged Scout out of his chair and mess, using pure brute force against all of Scout's confused and loud protests.

* * *

It was only by Scout's excellent reflexes and cat-like grace that he managed to keep himself, and the chair that Soldier hurled him at, from toppling over backward. He was just beginning to get his bearings and stand, ready to lay into the dog face for dragging him halfway across base by the arm like this, when Soldier hurled a rocket launcher at Scout and he ended up plopping right back down with the weapon laying across his lap, the wind knocked out of him.

" _What … the … hell?_ " He wheezed when he had enough air again.

Soldier was rolling a freestanding chalkboard up to a stop in front of Scout. "Listen up, this is _the talk_ , private!" he said. "Did I tell you you could ask questions yet? No I _did not_!"

Soldier nearly stuck his well-used riding crop into Scout's eye when Scout made to shove the rocket launcher off his lap so he could stand up. " _Do not_ toss that launcher on the floor! _It is a visual learning aid!"_

Scout gave Soldier a befuddled look for the umpteenth time. "What? _What_ does a rocket launcher haveta do with _anything_?"

Soldier squared his shoulders, again taking on a serious air. "Son, you should know by now that every single man on this earth has exactly one rocket launcher."

"No, they don't," Scout retorted, annoyed and distracted by trying to decide if he could lunge forward and wrest that stupid crop away from Soldier before it, or any fists, hit his face. "I ain't never had no rocket launcher, and none a' my brothers have ever had one, either!"

Soldier froze, shoulders stiffening. "Dear god. _Never?_ "

"No! Why the the hell would we?"

Soldier's shoulders sagged. Astonishment and empathy warred on his strong-jawed face. He came to Scout's side and put a hand on Scout's shoulder, his touch surprisingly gentle, which threw Scout for a loop all over again. "If you ever need to—" Soldier shook his head. "If you ever want—" Another head shake. "—Perhaps Medic—" Slower head shake and sigh. "—Son, I fear Miss Pauling may be in for a surprise with you. However, I still think we should have the talk. If she is able to accept your … lack of a launcher … I believe you still have a chance if you're honest with her about it. After all … she _is_ a damn fine woman."

The feeling of unease in Scout's stomach redoubled into something like indigestion. Soldier kept saying that word, _talk_ , and the way he said it made it sound like he meant something more than just a discussion about whatever … And now … now he was bringing Miss Pauling into this …

Oh god.

Not "talk" or "a talk."

 _The_ _Talk_.

"Shit, no! That's not what I meant!" Scout flushed red with the horrific realization of what Soldier really meant by _rocket launcher_. "I do have one! I've always had one! So've my brothers!" _  
_

Soldier frowned at him and raised a placating hand. "No, no, it's all right to admit it, Scout. Do not worry. I should remember that not all who are men in their hearts are born with a launcher. Rest assured, I will not mock that!" As if to emphasize the point, Soldier struck his chest with one fist. "America is for _freedom_!"

"No—no, you don't understand!" Scout could feel the heat rushing to his skin, mostly his face and neck, and he knew he was probably starting to take on the color of a tomato. The sensation only made the embarrassment worse. He shoved the literal-not-figurative rocket launcher off his lap and jumped to his feet, knocking Soldier's hand away. "I have a dick, okay? _I have a fuckin' dick_! I was born a man, so cut that out!" Scout glared with all the _and-you-better-believe-it_ he had, chest heaving for breath after his outburst.

In the beat of silence that followed, something behind them clanged to the floor. Both Scout and Soldier half-turned to see Engineer standing in the doorway, straightening up from grabbing his signature wrench back up off of the floor. In the same instant, his mouth went from slack to something entirely neutral. He cleared his throat. "I, ah—hope I'm not interruptin' you fellas from anythin' real … important."

Soldier looked between the Engineer and the beet-red Scout. "No, no. Just a misunderstanding. I'm trying to give Scout here a quick briefing about a certain topic. We need to consider that his age, he'll soon begin embarking on some big firsts in his life, Engie. As you might put it—" he put a hand to one side of his mouth which did nothing to keep Scout from hearing his stage whisper, "—the birds and the bees." Soldier raised one finger. "Though where _they_ come into it is a very complicated explanation."

Scout flinched before he plopped back down into his seat, putting his head in his hands and groaning. "Can we just … please forget about rocket launchers an' … get this over with?"

"Right!" Soldier said. "We are wasting time, standing here yapping about particulars." He moved back to the chalkboard. "Now, this may all be a little strange and embarrassing, but that's only because it's so new for you, so remember, this and the feelings it generates are one hundred percent natural and all-American." He began to draw on the board.

Engineer trotted over to Scout and whispered: "You, ah, need some help here, partner?"

"Yeah, sure," Scout said flatly, not lifting his head from his hands. "If you could be the girlfriend or whatever in the role play later, that'd be real wicked."

"Engineer!" Soldier said while still in the middle of drawing. Engineer looked up sharply. Soldier glanced back and pointed the chalk before returning to his work. "You are quite the man of science. Your mind is technically superior to most. If you have the time, would you care to join this lecture as a TA?"

Engineer was slightly insulted by the notion of being Soldier's teacher's assistant in anything, but like everything else he put up with from his team, he told himself that acting on his insulted feelings would only be a waste of effort. He glanced down at Scout. "Well if Scout here don't mind—"

Scout gestured toward the side of the room where there were still some empty chairs. "Knock yourself out."

Engineer nodded to himself. _This boy is in need of some real moral support right about now_ , he decided. "—I'll just sign on as an auditing student."

By time Soldier had finished his sketch, Engineer had retrieved a chair from the side of the room and pulled it up to the left of Scout's. Soldier turned and half-stepped to reveal his chalk drawing of what was, in Engineer's view, a decently enough drawn, as well as anatomically correct, nude man along with a close-up side view of the male genitalia. So far, so good. … As good as this could be, anyway.

"Now," Soldier said, pointing the riding crop in his other hand in the general direction of the full-body nude's pelvic area. "As we have just gone over in part before Engineer joined us, a large majority of men are born with what is known as a rocket launcher and a pair of reattached severed heads." As he spoke, he drew arrows to the two parts. "In technical terms with which you may or may not be familiar, these are the penis and testicles."

Engineer's eyebrows lifted behind the low rim of his yellow hardhat, but he said nothing. Scout put his head back into his hands for a long moment.

"Here," Soldier pointed his crop at the chest and drew more arrows. "We have the two control points. Also known as nipples. Yes, men do, in fact, have these. Bite down on one of these babies and—" Soldier glanced at his audience. Engineer's mouth was visibly hanging open. Scout, looking up, seemed like he was barely keeping himself from scrunching his eyes shut, putting his face in his hands again, or maybe straight out bolting. His jaw muscles twitched with strain.

Soldier continued serenely, "—Well, even the control points are a little different for everyone. Some are quickly captured, some more slowly, and others are effectively locked all the time. How yours are is a matter of exploration and discovery."

If anyone could have seen it, the position of Engineer's eyebrows could now have generated debate as to whether they had just lifted extremely high and would later return to their normal location, or whether they had permanently relocated to a more northern area of his head.

"Now, location of the intelligence varies greatly from person to person. It may be located in the feet, the rear, the neck … I personally enjoy some good right hooks to my gut, with a few to my chin thrown in for good measure … "

Engineer, after those first few statements, had thought surely it would make more sense as Soldier kept going and he got used to the strange way the man explained human sexuality. That Soldier seemed to like his experience rough wasn't anything remarkable or terribly surprising. At some point, however—Engineer didn't know exactly when—he realized that despite the early-on twisted logic of it all, he had been entirely wrong. It wasn't getting better, nor was it going to. It was only going to get worse.

Scout's mind seemed to break early in the explanation of female anatomy.

"The female chest is notable for also having two reattached severed heads, spaced somewhat further apart than the male's—"

Engineer couldn't let this one pass. "Whoa, whoa, slow down there, partner, you don't mean testicles, right, you—"

"Ah-ha! Very good Engie, that is exactly what I meant! I knew you were smart. They are only missing the rocket launcher bit, and thank God for that, because it would certainly make grabbing those sweeties more difficult!" Soldier grinned, thanked Engineer for the helpful reminder, and wrote "AKA testicles" just beneath the female drawing's breasts.

Scout's stare at the board grew notably vacant after that. This worried Engineer, but he knew the kid was resilient and if they could just get through this, he'd probably bounce back quick enough.

" … the rocket launcher shoots the bees out, and they will swarm the nearest object. If this swarm generates a queen and that queen decides to sting the female's skin, a baby will be born sometime in the next few weeks. Insect repellent can be effective against this … "

" … partners of potential long-term interest—take careful note, Scout—will exchange psychological bird constructs with each other. At first time sex they will perform their birds' respective mating dances as they enter the bed. As you may have guessed, my bird is the _very American_ bald eagle. How about you, Engie?"

" … All that blood relocating to those areas can result in fainting or nosebleeds. Generally, then, the better the sex, the more fainting. Or also, blood."

Engineer slowly began to succumb to the belief that when he had stepped into this room, he had somehow entered a parallel universe. When he and Scout finally were dismissed, Engineer had to guide a shell-shocked Scout out into the hall while feeling a little dazed himself.

"Don't worry," Soldier said as he left after tidying up, and he saw Engineer hovering over Scout, who had collapsed into a huddle on the floor, overwhelmed by the idea of girls having "testicle boobs" despite Engineer's repeated assurances that they _really didn't_. "It's all shocking the first time, as you know. But I've never met a man yet who didn't recover," Soldier said, all confidence and a big innocuous grin, before he walked away down the hall, humming what sounded vaguely like a marching tune.

Engineer shook his head. "Goodnight, Irene," he muttered. It took another ten minutes before Scout began to come around, and by that time Demoman had stumbled upon them and asked what they were doing hanging about in the hall.

"He said girls have balls!"

"Apparently, you can get pregnant from bee stings."

"Psychological bird constructs, what the hell!"

"I'm not sure how _anyone_ ever got to bein' born with that much faintin' goin' on."

Demoman scratched his head at their outbursts and asked why women couldn't have balls. This sent Scout back to the floor until Engineer could properly explain that _balls_ was not being used in the figurative sense here—and at that point Demoman quite vehemently ridiculed the idea of breasts being balls. "What I got on me's nothin' like wot any lassie ever had on her. But wot's all this about bees, then? You sure you mates haven't been drinking?" Demoman cocked an eyebrow, looking them up and down. " … Or do you just bloody really need one?"


End file.
